(we're a) Fine Line {HS}

XXXVII - Hint

"Do they know?" I ask Harry lowly, after a brief moment of silence in our talk. We're just sitting on the bed, leaned on each other with our backs against the headboard in the dark light of the night. It's one of those very warm nights again, so that, adding to the lack of tiredness, resulted in me and Harry staying up until what, by now, must be way after midnight.

"About us." I clarify, my mind concernedly awake and rushing through every thought and none. Now, though, our previous conversation about paparazzi and the photos that someone, somehow, always manages to take every time we go out, that have been circulating on the internet, makes me wonder something.

It's not that we feel bothered by it, at least speaking for myself, because I didn't even notice their existence that much anymore until Harry had just mentioned it and we just finished discussing it and pretty much laughing at some of the ridiculous captures they did of us.

And so I remembered if, by any chance, they have ever captured us while we walked holding hands, for example. Even if not, is there anything that tells them there's something else going on than what is already known?

"How do you mean?" He asks in the same quiet tone, only his voice sounding deeper than mine. I shrug slightly, "You know.."

"I do. But I want you to say it." He says, somewhat suddenly, making my heart tremble a little in my chest at his surprising request. I detach my head from his shoulder and face him, trying to get a hold on his credibility, watching, as he turns his head to me too, the way his beard starts to stain his features. I fight the urge of holding his jaw to rub it with my thumb, and focus my gaze on his own, instead.

I shift and turn around to sit facing him properly, one of my knees resting on top of his thigh as I cross my legs. I smile a little at the way his eyes scan my face in expectation, deciding to accept his challenge. I still spend some seconds deciding on how to, though.

"I could go so far with this, right now..." I let my words fade, shaking my head at him and his smirk, and change them to softer ones than those I have in mind, "Do they know we're together?"

"I think they have their suspicions." He eventually claims, after taking a deep breath, shifting his gaze to something on his legs. I look down too, thinking about his answer, and lean myself back on my hands.

"That's not fair." I claim and we look at each other again, a curious one from his side. I add "We should tell them for sure."

"Why? It's kind of fun, actually." The question was rhetorical, given the way he leans his head back on the furniture and shrugs, dismissing it away. Then he adds, in a somewhat nostalgic way, "Seeing how far they go to prove themselves right."

I hum lowly in reply, nodding slightly and my eyes unintentionally graze through the tattoos on his left arm, just to have something to do.

"We could give them a little hint, though." And with that, he reaches for his phone on the nightstand, under my attentive stare. He starts doing something on it, pursing his lips without saying a single word. I just stare at him, waiting for him to, which he does, not long after, glancing up from the device to me, "I'll need your help."

I quickly return to my previous position of leaning on his shoulder and watch what he does on the screen. Not sure of what to expect, I find myself looking at a display of pictures. Harry scrolls down on his gallery and clicks on one of them, at one point.

And, for some minutes, we go through all the pictures after that one. But they're mostly pictures of me, for some reason. There are also goofy selfies he took of himself, photos of flowers or views, even some of our shadows, all in different surfaces. But the ones I'm in, are the ones that stand out. Just as much as I never noticed him taking them, I had never realised how good photographer he is.